author's note:

elesa/burgh drabble-ish thing. inspired by m83, and the thought that burgh could be like elesa's jiminy cricket. originally was supposed to be a way longer story, but i didn't like the way it turned out.

She needs someone to keep her grounded, because there are times when the shallow tendencies of her second job get to her.

And that's where he fits in.

His interest never piqued by the superficial, he despises the vapid, superficial, characteristics she picks up from modeling.

And he reminds her, in his own way that she's above it. That she has too much depth and personality to pick up such dull and clichéd attributes.

She needs him; because he's the tonic to the poisonous world she inserts herself in daily.



Once and a while, after a spread in some high fashion magazine or being copiously praised by a colleague she'll become slightly enamored with herself. And in an attempt at vanity, she'll admire her perfectly symmetrical face, or flaunt her looks around. Her mirror will become her new best friend.

But then he'll take her to Pinwheel forest to sit among the trees or to Skyarrow Bridge to gaze into the horizon and tell her, "You do have a nice face, but you really can't compare to this view."

She's never offended.



When materialism takes hold of her and she struts out in front of him wearing some jet-setting design, he's never impressed.

The only thing he ever really cares about her sporting, is a smile.

Sometimes she obliges him and will wait on his bed in that minimalistic apartment of his wearing nothing but a cheeky grin.

That gets more of a reaction from him than any skin tight dress or stilettos ever could.



Because of her celebrity, people treat her as if she's the princess of Nimbasa. She hates to admit it, but she lets it go to her head. And there are spells when she plays the part of royalty, acting haughtily.

Only he has the courage to tell her she's being pretentious. That the notoriety she possesses should be used to improve her city, not to become some delusional public figure.

She realizes the stupidity of it all, but still teasingly calls him her prince for the rest of the night.



In contrast to the periods of being self-absorbed, she also goes through phases of self-loathing and feeling worthless.

When she's beyond stressed from balancing battling and modeling, she feels like she's doing a terrible job at both.

She'll call him from her gym and vent, not really expecting him to do much besides listen. Then, a few hours later she'll sit on the floor of her flat and feel absolutely pathetic.

But suddenly, she'll be startled by the sound of a door opening.

And it's him, appearing tired and holding the key she always forgets she gave him.

"Get up," He instructs her, "We're going out and we're going to have fun."

And another few hours later she's in his arms, dancing without a care in the world.



And then there are times when it's late, one, two in the morning and they're on the Ferris Wheel. Just the two of them, and she signals for the operator – who she's paying double to be here this late – to stop it right at the top, so they can see the eternally lit Castelia in the distance.

Then his lips will upturn slightly at the sight of his home, and then he'll turn to face her.

He'll pause a moment, letting the only sound between them be the distorted bass buzz coming from her headphones.

After he's done gazing at her, he'll lean in slowly, and gently kiss her. Their lips meeting without passion, the innocence in their touch making it so electric.

Once they've parted he'll beam and ask, "Elesa why are you with me?" Seemingly in awe of the moment.

She wants to give him a detailed explanation, full of fond memories and the minuscule things he does that impact her so grandly. Instead she always answers the same, no matter how many times he asks her, "Because without you I'd be someone completely different."